The news:

"John, I need to talk to you about something," Sherlock said gravely sitting at John's kitchen table.

John set Anna in her recliner and sat in front of his cup of tea. "What's troubling you mate? Is it about taking Anna with us during investigations? I told you already Mary would kill us if we did that."

"Mary would - " Sherlock raised his eyebrow. "Does that mean you wouldn't be completely opposed to the idea?"

"What?" John shook his head. "No! I mean, yes of course I am opposed to the idea! I can't believe you're asking again."

"But - " Sherlock shook his head. He had come for another issue but, as every time he saw his goddaughter, he got side-tracked. "Anyways, that's not why I am here."

"Thank God for that. What do you need Sherlock?" John asked, reaching for his cup of tea.

"Molly and I had intercourse, of a sexual nature."

John choked on his sip of tea and started to cough, as some of the liquid dripped from his nose. "What? How? What?" he stuttered with surprise.

"Are you dim?"

"No, no it's just - you getting physical with anyone, I just - "

"You just what, John?" Sherlock was getting annoyed. Why did it seem so unbelievable to everyone? Sherlock had remained a virgin by choice.

John cleared his throat, smoothing his tee-shirt soaked with tea. "No, nothing. It just came as a surprise it is all. Neither of you seem very fazed by it."

"Yes, she doesn't seem as though she is" Sherlock asked looking down at his tea.

"Sherlock, are - are you fazed by it?" John asked gently, as if he was talking to a scared animal.

Sherlock looked up and met his eyes. "Does it matter?"

John titled his head from side to side. "It depends."

"On what?"

"On what you want to happen next."

"I just - I don't understand." It was just so frustrating for Sherlock, who was a genius, to not understand the concept of romantic relationship. It was something so easy that even a man as stupid as Anderson managed to have two; if his regular sexual encounters with Sally Donovan counted as a relationship.

John reached over the table and patted his friend's hand, which was curled in a tight fist. "Don't get frustrated Sherlock. I'll help you figure it out. I have experience in this area."

"Are you talking about your multiple failed attempts at relationships? I'm sorry John, but your resume in this area is not brilliant."

"Things were going so well - "

Sherlock sighed. Insults and rebuffs were his defence mechanisms, coming full force. "I'm sorry."

John was momentarily taken aback by Sherlock apology. These were quite rare. "How do you feel about her?"

"I care for her; you know that. She's my friend but - but since it happened, I can't get her out of my head. She is always coming back. It's like – it's like she is hiding in the back of my mind and every time she sees an opportunity she sneaks her way in my conscious mind. But she seems to be okay with it being a one-time thing."

"And are you okay with that?"

"I thought I was," he admitted. "I'm not so sure anymore."

"What do you want from her? I mean, thinking long term. Do you know?"

"I wouldn't mind having coitus with her again."

John winced ever so slightly. "Okay, okay, that is good. But if you ever talk to her, I would avoid opening with that."

"Why? It was lovely; she enjoyed it as much as I did. You should have heard some of the things - "

John raised his hand to stop him. "Don't share the details. I will take your word for it"

"Why does it matter anyways? She might not want anything and this embarrassing conversation we're having will be pointless."

John gave him a small smile. "Oh Sherlock, you are so observant and yet you don't see. Molly wants a relationship with you. Molly has always wanted you, and no matter how much she is trying to convince herself otherwise, she will always want you. That is why her engagement didn't last. It is also why her relationships will always be temporary. She is looking for a you even if she refuses to see it.

Sherlock looked away and nodded. "It is true that I am pretty unique."

"That's an understatement."

Sherlock sighed. "I want- I just want to be with her and see how it works out. See if I like the idea of a relationship." He locked eyes with his best friend. "See if I care enough to make space in my life for her."

John nodded. "By coming to see me, you've already answered that question, Sherlock."

"Did I?"

This was the moment Anna started to cry.

"Go and talk to her, Sherlock." John reached down and held his daughter, rocking her in a pacifying motion. "Molly is patient and reasonable. She knows you inside out. You need to be honest and straight with her. If anyone can handle you it's her."

"That's what makes her so hard to let go," Sherlock admitted.

Sherlock rehearsed his speech all the way to the morgue from John's house and the more he tried the more he was frustrated. By the time he reached the morgue, the only part he was sure of was the 'Molly, I think we need to talk' bit.

As soon as Molly saw him, she reddened and paled almost instantly.

Sherlock frowned; it was obvious she was hiding something.

"Sh-Sherlock - Just… are you here for a case?"

Sherlock's frown deepened. "Is something wrong?" he asked. Molly was not a blabbering mess around him anymore; she hadn't been for quite a while.

She shook her head, arranging her instruments. "Is there anything you need?"

Sherlock took a deep breath, burying his hands in his coat pocket. "I need to talk to you."

Molly looked up, apprehension written all over her face. "Okay, I'm listening."

"You see – I just, well you know what happened between us, well – no matter how much I wanted It to be a one-time thing it had consequences, I didn't take into account –"

"You know," Molly whispered, eyes wide.

"Know?" Sherlock cocked his head to the side. "Know what?"

Molly opened and closed her mouth a couple of times.

"Stop imitating a goldfish, Molly. What do you think I know?" He asked somehow grateful to have been interrupted during his pathetic attempt of a speech.

"No go on. Sorry - "

"Molly - " Sherlock crossed his arms on his chest. "I can see something is bothering you and obviously it has something to do with us. I will not move until you talk and you know how stubborn I can be."

Molly looked down at her hands twisting them together. "I thought you knew I was -" she whispered.

"You are what Molly?" Sherlock's heart accelerated in his chest. Was his Molly sick? Was something wrong with her? His Molly? Where did that come from?

She looked up, eyes shining with unshed tears. "I'm pregnant."

Sherlock froze as his brain went into overdrive. Pregnant, a child, his and hers, a baby, tears in Molly's eyes, what kind of tears? Happiness? Regrets?

"Sherlock?" She tried taking a tentative step toward him. "Oh Sherlock, I'm so sorry I never should have been so reckless." She added with a sob.

Guilt? She was feeling guilty? Why was that? It was just as much as his fault as it was hers. And it was not someone's fault, not a mistake. Somehow, Sherlock was not scared or horrified at this idea. He was pleased him somehow.

"Sherlock, please say something," she said, her voice breaking and Sherlock realized it all had been an internal monologue.

"How - " He cleared his throat. "How do you feel about that?" he asked.

"You want to know how I feel?"

"Yes of course! Why is that so surprising? And why are you sorry? It's something we did together. You're not to blame."

"Well we did, but you didn't have the experience I have. I should have known better and - "

"Molly, please." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I might have been inexperienced but as you know I am a genius. Believe me, I know how babies are conceived." He smiled at her.

"You are smiling?" she asked with, astonishment.

"Yes, why? What did you expect?"

She shrugged. "To be honest, I expected accusations and you storming off."

Sherlock pondered that for a second. If he were completely honest he himself expected that reaction. "No."

"No?" Molly asked visibly confused

"How do you feel about it Molly?" he asked again, resting his hands on her shoulders.

"I'm…surprised but happy. I always wanted to be a mother, you know, so in the end, it is a good thing."

Sherlock nodded. "I agree."

"You agree?"

"Molly, stop repeating everything I am saying. It's annoying. And yes I agree. I came to tell you that I enjoyed being with you and that I wanted to move forward. The dynamic will be different from now on but – move in with me."

"Move in with you?"

Sherlock gave her a stern look. "This is going to get old quickly."

She shook her head, as if coming out of a daze. "Sorry, I just - this is not you."

"And how do you know? It's not like I have ever been in the similar situation."

"But you don't do relationships."

Sherlock shrugged. "Maybe I do…with you."

"You don't have to ask me to move in with you I - "

"I know I don't. Don't worry Molly; this has nothing to do with the empirical concept of honour. I don't believe in this principle. I am asking you to move in simply because I want to. The flat has been empty and the silence and solitude is heavy. I am curious to see this child develop and I like you Molly. I like you a lot. Plus, you don't have to share my bed if you don't want to."

"Oh, you were planning on bed sharing, were you?" she asked, and he was relieved to see the worry ease from her face.

"Of course, I enjoyed intercourse with you and now the consequences are already in play. I don't see the harm in continuing our activities. But again, if you don't want to I understand."

"Oh, I want to!" she blurted out, before blushing furiously.

Sherlock grinned. "I knew you did."

Molly rolled her eyes. "You're so full of yourself, Sherlock Holmes."

"What else is new?"

Molly rested her hand on her stomach. "Are you sure you don't mind? A baby? It's big, you know."

"I know. I can see how John and Mary struggle, but at least there are two to do it. This child will be unique because it's half me. Plus, I know you will be an amazing mother. With you, I can do it."

"And you really want me to move in."

"Yes, I really do. I'm even ready to welcome the demon cat."

"My cat is not a demon."

"To you maybe. So Molly, are you moving in?" Sherlock was feeling nothing more than excitement at the idea of her moving in.

"Yes, of course I will."

Sherlock leaned down and gave her a quick peck on the lips before locking eyes with her still flat stomach. "You know Molly, I think this child is very lucky."

Molly took his hand and placed it on her stomach, while resting hers on top. "You know what, I agree."

Loved this chapter! I love fics when Molly and Sherlock have a baby. I can't wait to see where the story leads I'm not sure if you purposely left out the quotation marks or if it was an issue between the formatting of our different computers.